


It Wasn't Enough

by HalfShadows



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Trailer, Feels, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reconciliation, Sleeping Together, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, They give each other hugs, Tony Has Issues, Tony Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:58:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HalfShadows/pseuds/HalfShadows
Summary: “Do you trust me?”Tony’s voice wavered — only slightly. Steve had never heard Tony waver before.Before.Steve knew the answer right away — it made him raw inside, an excruciating burning that tore through his insides. He had known the answer before the question was asked, before Siberia, before the Accords, before Ultron.“I do.”He had always trusted Tony; they had just been too foolish to see it.





	It Wasn't Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I am so ready for Endgame! Here's a little something I put together, I actually wrote most of it before the latest trailer but the dialogue fit well I thought!
> 
> Hope you enjoy and please comment and leave kudos — it makes me happy!

“You didn’t call.”

It wasn’t an accusation; it was a fact.

“I didn’t need to. Then —”

“It was too late.” Steve finished. His face felt tight.

“It was too late,” Tony echoed, the words soft. The sound floated around the room, hanging in the air long after they had been spoken: just as ghosts, haunting them, lingering in their minds.

They didn’t bring up the phone again.

 

* * *

 

 

 “Do you trust me?”

Tony’s voice wavered — only slightly. Steve had never heard Tony waver before.

Before.

Steve knew the answer right away —it made him raw inside, an excruciating burning that tore through his insides. He had known the answer before the question was asked, before Siberia, before the Accords, before Ultron.

“I do.”

He had always trusted Tony, they had just been too foolish to see it.

* * *

 

“We lost,” Steve said. As if saying it out loud one more time would help him reconcile the devastation that he had allowed.

“I know.”

He was alone with Tony, who had just rigged the AI to work in their bunker. They were looking at all the statistics now. All the numbers, the images, the destruction.

It was goddamn horrifying.

So many people had died: his friends, people he had sworn to protect.

People he had failed to protect.

“We lost?”

 It wasn’t until a shudder shook through his body that Steve realized he was crying. He stared at footage of the empty and desolate world.

 “Oh God.  Oh God. Tony — We —We” He couldn’t breathe. _Oh God, oh God, oh God._

Strong arms pulled him into a solid embrace. Steve clung to Tony’s frame, trying to ground himself, trying to find something that would allow him to keep going. To stand back up. He had done it after waking up from the ice. He could do it again.

Steve’s tears were soaking through Tony’s shirt. What if he couldn’t find it, what if there was nothing left to fight for?

“This can’t be happening again, Tony. This can’t be happening. Not again. Not again.”

_Oh God._

 

* * *

 

           

Steve was lying in bed, forcing himself to sleep. Another week had gone by.

It wasn’t getting any easier.

He had stopped crying as much — Tony was probably happy about that. Now he just stared into the empty spaces, no longer noticing the way the light cast a shadow color or the varying hues in each color. He couldn't fathom the way his pencil could depict what was left.

Steve had been so, _so_ relieved when he had seen Tony walk out of that space ship. He was gaunt, face pale and eyes hollow — but it was Tony. The man he loved was alive.

Looking at him felt like taking his first breath since it had all happened.  

In that moment the sheer joy and relief Steve had felt was replaced seconds later with self-loathing. How dare he feel joy when he had failed so many people? How dare he hope for a chance at love when Bucky had _disintegrated_ before his eyes?

That was the second time Steve had seen his best friend die. He’d give anything to see it a third time, if that could mean he’d live another day.

The soft sound of his bedroom door opening pulled him from his thoughts. Tony’s shadow filled the doorway for a moment before he closed the door behind him.

Steve didn’t dare move, only resuming his breathing after he heard the familiar sound of Tony slipping under the covers and felt his weight shift the mattress.

Neither one said anything.

What was there left to speak about?           

It was second nature, that when Tony’s hand reached out to find his, Steve grabbed it and pulled him close, wrapping his arm around the smaller man’s body, cocooning him in warmth. Their hands, intertwined, rested over the scars on Tony’s chest.

Steve and Tony fell asleep like that, like they had done so many times before it had all fallen apart.

They never talked about it, and Tony always slipped out of his room before the others had woken, but they fell asleep woven together every night after that, taking what little comfort they could from each other’s warmth and weight, grasping on to something solid as they chased dust and shadows in their dreams.  

* * *

It wasn’t enough.

How could one man even begin to ease the pain caused by the death of so many?

It wasn’t enough.

 

Steve knew Tony could feel it too, though they never mentioned it. Silence had become their communication, a heavy language of fear and resilience, suffering and thinking.

If there was a time when words flew from Tony’s mouth, rapidly jesting and computing, neither man acknowledged it. Now, there was a before and an after; it was too painful to live in either.

Yet, they were always together; when one moved so did the other.

It wasn’t co-dependence, it wasn’t fear or distrust, Steve knew. It was the understanding that _this_ was the place that they were needed. Being next to each otherwas the one place that they could do _something._

It wasn’t enough.

How could one man fill the void left by a team?

Still, they held each other through the night, waking each other from the terror that their dreams held, falling asleep to the syncopated rhythm of their heartbeats. Still, they offered their minds and hearts to each other, expressing what could never be conveyed in words through knowing glances and soft touches.

The first time their lips touched after all that time, it carried an unspoken promise.

Defiance. Resistance. Avenging.

It wasn’t enough; but they were something.

They were something.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day their work began. Together.


End file.
